The Gryphon has had Alice into a courtroom, where an effort is approximately to happen.

The King and Queen of Hearts are presiding (therefore the King looks very silly, since he could be wearing his crown on top of a judge’s wig). The Knave of Hearts — that is, the Jack — whom we saw briefly in Chapter 8, is standing in chains, apparently accused of some crime. The White Rabbit is acting as court herald, holding a scroll within one hand and a trumpet into the other, plus in the jury box sit twelve animals that are little acting as jurors. On a table stands a plate of tarts — delicious-looking fruit pastries — whose presence makes Alice very hungry.

Alice notices that the twelve jurors have slates and pencils (this is certainly, little chalkboards and pieces of chalk, for taking notes). When she asks the Gryphon what they are writing before the trial has even begun, the Gryphon explains that they are writing down their particular names, just in case they forget them during the trial. Alice, startled by this idiocy, exclaims out loud, “Stupid things!”, and sees to her amazement which they write down whatever she says that they are so suggestible.

Irritated by the squeaking pencil of 1 of the jurors from him, so the confused Bill tries during the rest of the trial to write on his slate with his finger— it is Bill the Lizard, in fact (who came down the Rabbit’s chimney in Chapter 4) — Alice sneaks up and takes it away.

The White is ordered by the King Rabbit to read through the “accusation.” The Rabbit unrolls his scroll, and reads the start of the nursery rhyme that goes: “The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, all on a summer day; / The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts and took them quite away!” It would appear that here is the accusation resistant to the Knave of Hearts. The King asks the jury because of its verdict, but the Rabbit reminds him that they have to first hear the evidence. And so the Rabbit blows his trumpet to summon the first witness — who turns out to be the hatter that is mad.

The King interrogates the terrified Hatter, but the questioning is ridiculous with no real information comes of it. Although this is going on, Alice suddenly finds that she has started to develop again, and it is getting large every quickly. The Dormouse, who is sitting close to her, complains that he’s being squished and moves to some other seat.

The interrogation continues, nevertheless the Hatter can’t remember anything he’s asked, rather than extends to finish his sentences anyway. Members of the audience — namely, two guinea pigs — keep cheering, and are usually suppressed by the officers regarding the court. (Carroll explains that this is accomplished by putting the guinea pigs buy your essay online into a canvas that is large, and sitting in it. This isn’t, needless to say, how individuals are “suppressed” in courtrooms anywhere away from Wonderland.) Losing her temper, the Queen orders the Hatter beheaded, but the King allows him to leave.

The next witness is the Duchess’s cook (from Chapter 6), who does not want to answer any queries at all. If the King attempts to cross-examine her by asking her what tarts are made of, she replies, “Pepper.” The Dormouse — which is talking in its sleep — suddenly says “Treacle” (it must be thinking of the story about the molasses-well which it told Alice in Chapter 7), as well as the Queen loses her temper completely. The Dormouse has been tossed out of the court, the Cook has disappeared by the time. The King tells the Queen she must cross-examine the witness that is next. Alice, very curious as to who will be called next in this trial that is ludicrous is shocked to hear the Rabbit read off its scroll: “Alice!”

Chapter 12 – Alice’s Evidence

Hearing her name called as a witness, Alice calls out, “Here!”, and jumps up to attend the front regarding the courtroom. But she has forgotten that she’s been growing, and is now gigantic when compared with everybody else. The edge of her skirt knocks over the jury box, and all the animals that are little out. Since Alice remembers accidentally knocking over a bowl of goldfish a week ago, she’s got the confused idea that if she doesn’t place them all back in they’ll die, so she quickly tucks them back in the jury box again. (Bill the Lizard gets stuck in upside down, so Alice has to put him back right side up.)

The King calls the court to order, and asks Alice what she knows about the matter regarding the Knave together with tarts. Alice says she does not know any thing about this, and also the King and jury try for some time to find out whether this is unimportant or important. Then the King, that has been busily writing in his notebook, announces that the court’s Rule Number Forty-two says that every people more than a mile high leave the court must. Everyone stares at Alice, who protests that she’s not a mile high (though she actually is certainly now very that is big, and that the King just made the rule up anyway. The King claims so it’s the rule that is oldest into the book. For this Alice cleverly replies so it if it is the oldest rule when you look at the book, it must be number 1; the King turns pale, shuts his notebook and changes the topic.

The White Rabbit announces that a new piece of evidence has arrived — a letter which must have been published by the Knave of Hearts and should be examined as evidence. The paper isn’t when you look at the Knave’s handwriting, and has now no name signed to it, nevertheless the King and Queen decide that this proves the Knave’s guilt and the Queen begins to condemn him to death. However, Alice, who is now so large in comparison to the others that she is not scared of the King or Queen, interrupts them, stating that nothing at all has been proved and so they don’t even know what the paper says. The King orders the White Rabbit to see clearly aloud.

The paper works out to contain a nonsense poem, which the King attempts to interpret with regards to the Knave. This might be difficult, since the poem makes no sense, however the King finds meaning since he is a playing card, and thus made of cardboard) in it anyway: for instance, it mentions somebody who can’t swim, and the Knave of Hearts certainly can’t swim (. Moreover it mentions somebody having a fit, which the King things might refer to the Queen. At the suggestion that she has ever endured a fit, the Queen grows enraged and throws a bottle of ink at Bill the Lizard.

The King, making a poorly-received pun on the term “fit,” gets annoyed when nobody laughs, and tells the jury to think about its verdict. The Queen demands, “Sentence first — verdict afterwards,” but Alice protests, “Stuff and nonsense! The notion of getting the sentence first!” Enraged, the Queen orders Alice’s head to be cut off, but nobody moves to get it done (since Alice is now huge). Alice, emboldened, shouts, “Who cares for your needs? You’re nothing but a pack of cards!”

When she yells this, suddenly the pack that is entire of rises up into the air and comes flying down onto her. Alice, who has by this time around reached her size that is full again screams and tries to beat them off — but opens her eyes to locate herself lying from the river bank, where her sister is gently brushing away some dead leaves which may have drifted down onto her face.

Alice is amazed to discover that she’s got been asleep for a tremendously time that is long. She is told by her sister all about her astonishing dream. Her and tells her to run in and have her tea when she is done, her sister kisses. But as Alice trots off, still marvelling about her dream that is wonderful sister sits on the river bank, also thinking over everything Alice has informed her.

Watching the setting sun, she falls into a daydream, and appears to see all Alice’s adventures for herself. But she knows that if she opens her eyes, she’ll find herself back when you look at the real life again. And last but not least, she thinks about how when Alice is a woman that is grown children of her very own, she’s going to inform them this story, and watch their eyes grow bright with wonder; and she thinks on how Alice will remember the joys and griefs of her own childhood, and — as Carroll puts it when you look at the final words — “these happy summer days.”